New Girl
by Rac4hel414
Summary: Troy Bolton is the big man on campus. But when Gabriella Montez moves to East High, he gets a lot more than he bargained for.
1. Preview

**A/N: Yes, I'm still alive. Sorry, I haven't even posted a oneshot recently. Don't kill me. I've been surviving university. I've been writing lots (and lots) of poetry, though. And if anyone's interested in reading some, let me know and I'll send you some.**

**So anyway, I'm currently living as an unemployed graduate. I have had several interviews, but to no avail. I did have one brief job but the only thing I learned is that I'm terrible at telesales.**

**ANYWAY, now that I no longer have to analyse novels and poems for grades, I've been trying to get back into writing again. I mean, I'm fine with poems but I really want to start writing stories again and I figured a fanfic was the best way to go.**

**So I've been watching _Saved By The Bell_ and although I never liked the character of Tori, I liked the first episode she was featured in. So that's what influenced the first chapter. I am still piecing the plot together in my head and I still have a few gaps. If anyone doesn't mind spoilers, I'd love someone to help me figure it out :)**

**Okay, a brief summary that I've thought of on the spot would go something like this: Troy Bolton is the big man on campus: captain of several sports team, son of the sports coach, going out with the prettiest girl in school. He has everything going for him and is sure to win a basketball scholarship for college. But then Gabriella Montez shows up and doesn't play by Troy's rules. She doesn't seem to fit into his perfect world, but when they're paired together for a social studies project, Troy begins to learn what's hiding beneath Gabriella's cool exterior.**

* * *

Chapter One

"Hold up," Troy Bolton called, silencing the main hallway of East High. Students turned from their lockers, abandoning their conversations, curious as to what he wanted.

A nearby group of cheerleaders giggled and admired him as he slowly surveyed the crowds. Dressed in jeans, white shirt and a sports jacket, he was the epitome of school spirit. This was expected as he was captain of the basketball team, football team, and golf team. But all the cheerleaders were interested in was the way his shirt showed a few pectoral muscles.

"Who did it?" he asked, ignoring the cheerleaders and continuing his inspection of the student body.

His best friend approached and cautiously clapped Troy on the shoulder. "Who did what?"

He narrowed his eyes at Chad Danforth. "Who parked in my space?"

The hallway groaned in disappointment and went back to their business, evidently expecting a juicier story.

Chad quirked an eyebrow. "Really, hoops?"

Troy nodded his head. "And do you know the worst part?"

"That you're obsessive about a parking space?"

He laughed sarcastically. "No. I had to park by the dumpsters. I just know that Lola is going to be covered in spilled coffee by lunch."

Taylor, Chad's girlfriend, approached and greeted her boyfriend with a chaste kiss, quickly taking Chad's basketball from him. "Do you know who did it?"

"No," he mumbled, looking at the ground.

"Well what kind of car is it?" Chad asked, trying to wrestle his basketball off Taylor.

"It wasn't even a car. It was just a stupid motorcycle," he grumbled, folding his arms like a child who couldn't get his own way. Which, in a way, he was.

"What kind of motorcycle?" Chad asked absentmindedly as he finally pried his basketball from Taylor.

"I don't know," Troy exploded, running his hand through his sandy hair. "All I know is that someone parked in my space. It looked like it was about to fall apart anyway."

Jason Cross, another of Troy's friends, ran up to him. "Troy, someone's parked in your space."

Troy gritted his teeth. "I know."

"I was going to stop him but he's a scary dude." Jason pulled a face.

"You saw him?"

Jason nodded. "Terrifying. Seven foot, bulging muscles and tattoos all over his face."

Taylor nudged Jason. "Is that the scary dude?"

Troy turned to see that Taylor was pointing at a petite girl with a head full of unruly dark curls that fell to halfway down her back. Dressed in a white shirt, jeans, black boots and an oversized leather jacket, she looked like she had eaten her fair share of bugs. She was clutching a wad of papers in one hand and a motorcycle helmet in the other, a backpack hanging from her shoulder. She wandered over to a locker and began dialling in her combination.

Troy raised an eyebrow in Jason's direction.

Jason shrugged. "I swear she was a dude outside."

Troy rolled his eyes and before anyone could stop him, he marched over to her. He looked her up and down, noticing how tanned she was and how high her cheekbones were. She began trying to cram her helmet into her locker, but to no avail. "Hi, I'm Troy Bolton," he said, smiling charmingly down at her.

She paused for a moment to look him up and down before she turned back to her locker, pushing her shoulder against her helmet.

"Try this," he offered as he took her helmet, twisted it and watched it slide smoothly to the bottom of the locker.

She glanced at him, her lips flicking up in a brief smile, and then began organising her books.

"Listen," Troy began, leaning against the locker next to hers. "You kind of parked your bike in my space, so could you be a doll and move it?" He winked down at her.

She lifted her head, blinking a few times and then opened her mouth, a bunch of jumbled syllables tumbling out.

He frowned, recognising the odd word from Spanish class and instantly wished he'd studied more and not stared at the girl who sat in front of him. "Oh, you don't speak English," he said slowly.

She just smiled politely up at him and turned back to her locker.

He slowly walked away and met back up with his friends. "She doesn't even speak English."

Taylor rolled her eyes. "She probably doesn't want to be bothered by some jock on her first day of school."

The bell rang and students began shuffling toward their homeroom. Troy vaguely registered Taylor pushing Chad in the direction of Ms Darbus's classroom but he could only strand in the middle of the hall and stare at the biker chick as she grabbed a few books and battled her way to her homeroom.

He took a deep breath and headed in the opposite direction, towards the principal's office. He didn't know who the biker girl was, he didn't care if it was her first day, and he didn't care if she didn't speak English. He was Troy Bolton and he was going to get his space back.


	2. Chapter One

**A/N: So this is the complete first chapter. I hope you like it!**

**Question: Would you prefer me to upload as I finish each chapter, or would you prefer me to write 6 or 7 chapters and then do weekly updates like with Serendipity and A Long Road To Love? Let me know!**

* * *

Chapter One

"Hold up," Troy Bolton called, silencing the main hallway of East High. Students turned from their lockers, abandoning their conversations, curious as to what he wanted.

A nearby group of cheerleaders giggled and admired him as he slowly surveyed the crowds. Dressed in jeans, white shirt and a sports jacket, he was the epitome of school spirit. This was expected as he was captain of the basketball team, football team, and golf team. But all the cheerleaders were interested in was the way his shirt showed a few pectoral muscles.

"Who did it?" he asked, ignoring the cheerleaders and continuing his inspection of the student body.

His best friend approached and cautiously clapped Troy on the shoulder. "Who did what?"

He narrowed his eyes at Chad Danforth. "Who parked in my space?"

The hallway groaned in disappointment and went back to their business, evidently expecting a juicier story.

Chad quirked an eyebrow. "Really, hoops?"

Troy nodded his head. "And do you know the worst part?"

"That you're obsessive about a parking space?"

He laughed sarcastically. "No. I had to park by the dumpsters. I just know that Lola is going to be covered in spilled coffee by lunch."

Taylor, Chad's girlfriend, approached and greeted her boyfriend with a chaste kiss, quickly taking Chad's basketball from him. "Do you know who did it?"

"No," he mumbled, looking at the ground.

"Well what kind of car is it?" Chad asked, trying to wrestle his basketball off Taylor.

"It wasn't even a car. It was just a stupid motorcycle," he grumbled, folding his arms like a child who couldn't get his own way. Which, in a way, he was.

"What kind of motorcycle?" Chad asked absentmindedly as he finally pried his basketball from Taylor.

"I don't know," Troy exploded, running his hand through his sandy hair. "All I know is that someone parked in my space. It looked like it was about to fall apart anyway."

Jason Cross, another of Troy's friends, ran up to him. "Troy, someone's parked in your space."

Troy gritted his teeth. "I know."

"I was going to stop him but he's a scary dude." Jason pulled a face.

"You saw him?"

Jason nodded. "Terrifying. Seven foot, bulging muscles and tattoos all over his face."

Taylor nudged Jason. "Is that the scary dude?"

Troy turned to see that Taylor was pointing at a petite girl with a head full of unruly dark curls that fell to halfway down her back. Dressed in a white shirt, jeans, black boots and an oversized leather jacket, she looked like she had eaten her fair share of bugs. She was clutching a wad of papers in one hand and a motorcycle helmet in the other, a backpack hanging from her shoulder. She wandered over to a locker and began dialling in her combination.

Troy raised an eyebrow in Jason's direction.

Jason shrugged. "I swear she was a dude outside."

Troy rolled his eyes and before anyone could stop him, he marched over to her. He looked her up and down, noticing how tanned she was and how high her cheekbones were. She began trying to cram her helmet into her locker, but to no avail. "Hi, I'm Troy Bolton," he said, smiling charmingly down at her.

She paused for a moment to look him up and down before she turned back to her locker, pushing her shoulder against her helmet.

"Try this," he offered as he took her helmet, twisted it and watched it slide smoothly to the bottom of the locker.

She glanced at him, her lips flicking up in a brief smile, and then began organising her books.

"Listen," Troy began, leaning against the locker next to hers. "You kind of parked your bike in my space, so could you be a doll and move it?" He winked down at her.

She lifted her head, blinking a few times and then opened her mouth, a bunch of jumbled syllables tumbling out.

He frowned, recognising the odd word from Spanish class and instantly wished he'd studied more and not stared at the girl who sat in front of him. "Oh, you don't speak English," he said slowly.

She just smiled politely up at him and turned back to her locker.

He slowly walked away and met back up with his friends. "She doesn't even speak English."

Taylor rolled her eyes. "She probably doesn't want to be bothered by some jock on her first day of school."

The bell rang and students began shuffling toward their homeroom. Troy vaguely registered Taylor pushing Chad in the direction of Ms Darbus's classroom but he could only stand in the middle of the hall and stare at the biker chick as she grabbed a few books and battled her way to her homeroom.

He took a deep breath and headed in the opposite direction, towards the principal's office. He didn't know who the biker girl was, he didn't care if it was her first day, and he didn't care if she didn't speak English. He was Troy Bolton and he was going to get his space back.

* * *

"Mr Matsui, please," Troy begged, dropping down to his knees.

Mr Matsui, the principal, glanced across at Jack Bolton, the gym coach and, coincidentally, Troy's father. "Troy, there is nothing I can do."

"But-"

"Troy," Jack interrupted. "I don't think it's that big of a deal. It's only a parking space."

Troy jumped to his feet. "It's only a parking space? Dad, I have had that space since before I got my permit."

"And Jason Cross had to lie in it for the first six months," Mr Matsui exclaimed. "Troy, there is nothing I can do unless you want to carpool with your father to park in the teachers' spaces."

Troy looked at Jack hopefully.

"No," Jack said. "Your mom and I bought you that car so that I wouldn't be late to work anymore. It's just a parking space."

"It's not 'just' a parking space," Troy mumbled, using air quotes. "It's my parking space and I want it back."

He folded his arms and swept his gaze around the principal's office. He looked at the filing cabinets, the certificates that documented Mr Matsui's college education, the trophy for principal of the year (although Troy suspected Mr Matsui had bought it himself), the dry erase board, and the mini basketball hoop. Troy finally gazed out the large window behind Mr Matsui's desk which overlooked the parking lot. He spied that tiny little motorcycle and turned to punch Mr Matsui's filing cabinet.

"Shit," he muttered, flexing his hand.

"Language," Jack warned.

"Look Troy, I'm sorry. There are no assigned student parking spaces. It says so in the student handbook," Mr Matsui explained, holding up a binder.

Troy snatched it up and began flicking through the pages. "There's always a loophole and I'm determined to find it."

Mr Matsui rose from behind his desk. "Troy, there's a meeting with the dance committee in here."

Troy frowned, looking at his dad. "Why are you here?"

Jack sighed. "We have to organise the decorating around basketball practice and cleaning up before the big game Saturday."

Troy shrugged and sat down in one of the chairs, turning his attention back to the handbook. "They won't bother me."

Mr Matsui and Jack sighed unanimously as the principal sat back down.

Troy began studying the handbook harder than he had ever studied for a class. Troy Bolton had many talents, but one of his greatest talents was finding rules that let him get what he wanted. There was a joke among his friends that it was a shame he was so interested in sports because he would make an amazing lawyer. He scoured every page, reading every word, thinking about how good it would feel to swing Lola back into her usual space by the fountain, not the dumpsters.

The door suddenly swung open and in strolled the committee, led by none other than Sharpay Evans, donned in her usual combination of pink and glitter. Troy glanced up to see Taylor also filing in, clutching a pile of papers, alongside Kelsi Nielson, another of Troy's friends. A few other students that Troy recognised wandered in behind and closed the door.

Kelsi sat next to him. "Hi Troy. What are you doing here?"

He briefly lowered the binder to glance at his friends. "Searching for justice."

Sharpay rolled her eyes and flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder. "Please tell me he's not twittering on about that blasted parking space?"

Jack shrugged. "You know my son just like I do."

Taylor frowned disapprovingly. "You know Ms Darbus is furious that you missed homeroom because of a parking space?"

Mr Matsui cleared his throat. "So Sharpay, you know that the fall ball is one of the highlights of the school year. What have you planned for refreshments?"

"That's Taylor's department," she snapped, glaring at the dark skinned girl.

"Well, I don't know because Sharpay refuses to pick a theme for this dance," Taylor retorted.

Mr Matsui took his glasses off and pinched the bridge of his nose. "What about music?"

"Aha!" Troy leapt to his feet and shoved the binder under Mr Matsui's nose.

The principal took it off him. "What am I supposed to be looking at?"

"Article eight," Troy said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world for the principal of East High to be looking at during a meeting with the dance committee. "All regulations are subject to review."

Mr Matsui handed the binder back to Troy. "Aha. Article nine. Except for student parking."

Troy pulled a face and sat back down in the chair he'd been occupying. He grumbled incoherently as he began perusing the binder all over again.

There was a knock at the door and Troy felt his anger bubbling in his stomach when the biker girl peered around the door, not even noticing him.

"May I help you?" Mr Matsui asked.

The girl stepped into the room and approached the principal's desk. "Hi, I'm Gabriella Montez. I'm new here. Ms Darbus said I should clear my schedule with you." She handed over a sheet of paper.

"Wait. You speak English?" Troy exclaimed as he jumped to his feet.

Gabriella turned to him and quirked an eyebrow. "_Si, hijo de puta._"

Troy turned to Taylor. "Tay, what did she say?"

Taylor laughed. "I'm not translating that motor mouth. Besides, I told you she just didn't want to be bothered on her first day."

Gabriella smirked at Troy before she turned back to Mr Matsui. "Sorry for interrupting. I didn't know you were in a meeting."

Mr Matsui smiled politely, giving the schedule back to Gabriella. "No worries, Miss Montez. I actually remember reviewing your transcript and, I have to say, I was very impressed. 4.0 GPA, captain of the basketball team, wrestling team, and scholastic decathlon team? I believe your light will shine very brightly here at East High."

Troy suddenly laughed. "Welcome to East High, Einstein-ette."

Gabriella rolled her eyes but before she could respond, Jack stepped forward. "Basketball and wrestling? Really? Would you like to try out for the teams?"

"But Dad," Troy protested.

"Your dad works at school? That makes sense," she mumbled.

"Troy, I was speaking to Gabriella," Jack exclaimed, moving his gaze back to the young girl.

Gabriella shuffled her feet in discomfort. "I'm sorry, Coach..."

"Bolton," Jack finished, holding his hand out.

She shook his hand. "Thank you for inviting me to try out, but I don't really play sports anymore."

"Why? Did you have to rediscover gravity?" Troy joked, grinning widely down at her.

"Thank you, Troy," Mr Matsui warned, giving him a pointed look. "Gabriella, let me be the first to welcome you to East High."

"I would like to speak to the captain of the scholastic decathlon team, though," Gabriella explained.

Before she knew it, Taylor was by her side, holding out a card.

"Allow me to introduce our class president and captain of the scholastic decathlon team, Taylor McKessie," Mr Matsui said.

Taylor nodded. "We meet Mondays and Wednesdays at lunch and almost every day after school. If you're as good as Mr Matsui said, you'll fit right in."

"Sir," Troy exclaimed, pushing Gabriella out of the way. He grinned triumphantly. "Article five: the principal can overrule any regulation in an emergency."

Mr Matsui stood up. "Troy, you losing a parking space does not qualify as an emergency. Now sit down or get back to homeroom."

"I'll just...take a seat," he muttered as he turned around, halting in his tracks. "That's my seat."

Gabriella looked up and shrugged. "I didn't see 'Property of Egotistical Jerk' stitched into it."

"But it's my seat," he repeated through gritted teeth.

"Not anymore," she said, smirking up at him.

He turned to Mr Matsui. "I'll get back to you." He turned to Gabriella. "And you too!"

She watched him storm out of the room and began studying her schedule again, drowning out the conversation that went on around her. It was something about an upcoming dance she'd seen advertised in the halls. She focused on her classes, trying to guess if she shared any lessons with Troy. She didn't take gym, so she wouldn't encounter him there. She doubted he took AP classes, so that just left drama and autoshop. And then there's lunch, the wonderful experience that it is, what with trying to figure out where everyone sat, trying to avoid spilled food, and trying to stomach cafeteria food which never changed, no matter what school you were at.

But, the important thing was that it seemed like she would be able to avoid Troy the majority of the time. The last thing she wanted or needed was trouble or aggravation. She had moved to Albuquerque with her father wanting nothing more than a quiet life. Despite that, she didn't think it would happen. Not with the start she'd had with Troy. Deep down, she knew that no matter how many classes they didn't have together, he would still manage to get in her way.

"Well, let's ask Gabriella," a voice exclaimed.

Her stomach dropped as she lifted her head to see the whole room staring at her.

"Ask Gabriella what?" she asked slowly.

Taylor stepped forward. "As a new student with no bias towards past dances or friendships with members of the dance committee, what do you prefer? Fall in Paris?"

"Get it?" Sharpay interrupted. "Paris is the city of love. So you would fall in Paris."

Gabriella nodded slowly, slightly scared by the proud grin on the blonde's face.

"Or an autumn harvest?" Taylor finished. "You know, pumpkins, trees, leaves..."

"And this dance is Friday?" Gabriella rolled her eyes. "If I have to choose, I prefer the harvest."

Taylor grinned triumphantly at Sharpay. "Told you."

Sharpay sneered at her friend. "Are you coming to the dance, Gabriella?"

Gabriella shifted uncomfortably under everybody's gaze. It was tricky. She was in a room full of people who were excited for the dance and she'd never been to one before. "Well, I hadn't really thought about it. I don't think so. I don't really know anybody."

"You know us," Taylor said, giving her a comforting smile. "Besides, if you help us with the decorations, your ticket would be free."

Gabriella sighed. "I don't know."

Sharpay shrugged. "We'd be happy to go with you and introduce you to some people."

"Fine," Gabriella mumbled. "But only because I love pumpkin pie."


	3. Chapter Two

**A/N: Here's Chapter Two. I hope you like it :) From a few reviews, people seemed to prefer me to upload as soon as I finish a chapter. So that is what I'm going to do.**

**Also, I'd like to give a HUGE shout out to hopelessromanticgurl who has been fantastic. She has answered my questions and e-mails and has helped me figure this plot out in my head. I am completely indebted to her. And I recommend reading her fic 'Camp Rock Musical'. You'll love it!**

* * *

Chapter Two

After her meeting with Mr Matsui, Gabriella made her way to drama class, which was also taught by Ms Darbus. She battled her way into the classroom a second before the bell rang and she headed to an empty seat at the back. She passed by Troy and stepped over the foot he had sticking out, clearly attempting to trip her. She frowned down at him, somewhat disappointed that he couldn't think of anything better than trupping her up.

Even though she had been in the room for all of twenty seconds, she could tell from the look in Troy's eyes that he had been awarded detention for skipping the majority of homeroom in order to speak with Mr Matsui. She almost felt sorry for him. It must be so hard to have the whole school bow down to him and get everything he wants, right down to a specific parking space.

She sat down behind Taylor and smiled when Sharpay turned in her seat to wave. She brought out her notebook and a dog-eared copy of _Romeo and Juliet_. A plot that was somewhat overrated, but it was one of her favourite plays. She wasn't exactly going to make it public though. Troy would have a field day.

Ms Darbus rose from her throne-like chair and placed her glasses on her nose. "Now class, today we are going to start our study of the world's favourite star-cross'd lovers."

Jason raised his hand, causing a groan to emanate throughout the class.

Ms Darbus sighed. "Yes, Jason?"

"Like comets?"

Sharpay reached across and slapped the back of Jason's head. "Ms Darbus is talking about Romeo and Juliet, you big doofus!"

Ms Darbus nodded. "Of course. The Capulet's and the Montegue's are literature's greatest rivals and their children fell in love."

"Yeah, and they died because of it," Troy exclaimed.

"Isn't that romantic?"

The whole class turned around to look at Gabriella.

"Of course you would have that opinion," Troy muttered, rolling his eyes.

"They loved each other so much that they couldn't bear to be apart," she exclaimed. Sure, she broke her own rule, and now Troy knew how much she loved the play. But it was kind of fun to wind Troy up.

"So they killed themselves," he said, quirking an eyebrow. "Isn't that a little melodramatic?"

Gabriella shrugged and ran her hand through her unruly curls. "Of course it is. The whole dynamic of their relationship is melodramatic. I mean, forbidden love? Please. But who are we to comment? We're eighteen. Have you experienced that kind of passionate, unrelenting love that Romeo felt for Juliet?"

Troy shrugged uncomfortably and turned back to the front. "Ms Darbus, you were saying?"

"What a thrilling way to begin our studies! This is the kind of discussion and critical thinking I am expecting of you now that you are seniors. But, what Troy and Gabriella were saying is precisely what I want you all to think about," she said, waving the skirt of her dress around the small stage.

Chad gave a thumbs down and said, "Boo!"

"Thank you for your contribution, Mr Danforth. Continue with that attitude and you will be joining Mr Bolton in detention."

Chad quickly slouched further in his seat. "Sorry, Ms Darbus."

Ms Darbus nodded pointedly. "Your assignment for this week will be to take one key scene-yes, it will be assigned to you, Mr Danforth."

Chad lowered his hand and groaned, letting his head fall onto his desk.

"And you must make it appealing for your peers. Think of costumes, sets, music, props. Everything that makes a show unique, use it to your advantage. But, beneath all of those things, every production relies on teamwork. So you will be working in pairs. Find your co-director," Ms Darbus exclaimed, grinning at the class.

Gabriella tapped Taylor's shoulder. "Taylor, do you have a partner?"

"Sorry Gabriella. I'm going to be with my boyfriend, Chad. Someone's got to help maintain his grades." She smiled apologetically before she gathered her belongings and took a seat next to Chad.

Gabriella looked around, spotting Sharpay with an African-American, Kelsi sitting with Jason, and a room full of strangers who already knew each other. She slowly raised her hand. "Ms Darbus? I don't have a partner."

"Who else doesn't have a partner?" she called, gazing around the classroom. "Mr Bolton? I see you are sitting alone."

"Ms Darbus, I can't be partnered with her," he exclaimed.

"But you are," she said, pointing to the empty seat next to Gabriella.

Troy sulkily grabbed his backpack and moved to the vacant seat. He glared at Gabriella but she just rolled her eyes. As Ms Darbus began visiting each pair and assigning scenes, Troy and Gabriella remained silent. She occupied herself by familiarising herself with the text. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Troy tapping his desk with a pencil. She shuffled in her seat, attempting to drown it out but it became too much, so she did what any rational new student on their first day would do. She reached across to snatch the pencil from him and snapped it in half, placing the remains of his pencil in front of him.

"I think that was a bit unnecessary, don't you?" he said, bringing another pencil from his backpack and starting all over again.

She clenched her hands into fists as Ms Darbus approached. "Ms Darbus, please don't make me work with him."

"Why not?" she asked calmly.

"Because he's infuriating, that's why," Gabriella exploded. "He's self centred, conceited, and just expects everyone to kiss the ground he walks on."

"Would you like to swap partners?"

Gabriella glanced at Troy and shrugged. "I don't see how this can end well."

"It's your choice Miss Montez. But, I must explain to you that Troy is one of the most valued members of our drama club," Ms Darbus explained, nodding in the direction of Troy.

Troy merely smirked at Gabriella and continued tapping the desk.

She sighed. "Fine. What scene do we have?"

"Act I, Scene v," Ms Darbus said, moving away towards Chad and Taylor.

* * *

"We have to kiss?" Troy exclaimed.

Gabriella rolled her eyes as she grabbed her books and pushed past Troy, bumping into his shoulder. "That's what happens in the scene."

"I'm not kissing you," he protested as he followed her into the hall.

She turned around, causing him to crash into her. She stepped back and took a deep breath. "You don't have to kiss me."

"I don't?" he asked, his eyes lighting up.

"Of course not. That is, of course, if you want to fail. I've been here one day and I can tell Ms Darbus just swoons over attention to detail. And the kiss is a pretty big detail."

He groaned, rubbing his eyes. "I can't fail. This is the only class I'm good at apart from gym."

"So what are you going to do?"

A look of reluctance washed over his face. "I'll meet you in the library after school."

Without another word, Troy turned around and headed in the other direction. Gabriella headed towards her AP calculus class. She approached Taylor and smiled. "Anyone sitting here?"

Taylor shook her head. "No. Chad isn't smart enough for AP classes. I love him but he has more socks than IQ points."

Gabriella laughed and sat down. "Well, you know, you can never have too many socks."

Taylor grinned. "How'd you find drama?"

Gabriella rolled her eyes. "Please don't go there. Maybe ask me in ten years after I've seen a therapist about it. Tell me, how's Mr Russo?"

"The coolest. Don't worry, there's no sing song voice, no flowy clothes. Just math, but he's really funny. You know, in a dad kind of way," she explained, aligning her notebook perfectly with the edge of the desk.

Before Gabriella could respond, the door swung open and Mr Russo, a large, balding man, wandered in, setting his briefcase on his desk. "Good morning class, let's start by warming up with some mental arithmetic. Why was six afraid of seven?"

"Seven eight nine," the class chorused in response.

Mr Russo grinned, evidently pleased that his class humoured him. He then turned to the blackboard, explaining numerous equations and calculations. He slipped a few extra jokes in around the sums but focussed on his teaching.

Gabriella scribbled in her notebook, barely looking at her textbook or the blackboard. Math made sense for her. It was easy and came naturally for her. When life confused her, she opened her math book and she saw things clearly.

She suddenly frowned and looked up at the board, tapping her pen against the desk. "That should be sixteen over pi," she mumbled.

Mr Russo turned away from the board, his gaze landing on Gabriella. "Do you have something to say," he paused to glance at some paperwork, "Miss Montez? You're our new student, right?"

Gabriella shuffled in her seat and nodded. "Yes, sir."

"And what did you say?"

"Um, shouldn't the second equation read sixteen over pi?" she asked.

"That's quite impossible," he exclaimed. However, he tapped a few buttons on his calculator and raised his eyebrow as he amended the equation. "I stand corrected. Have you met Taylor?"

"Kind of."

"Welcome aboard, Miss Montez," he said, grinning her way.

* * *

Sat in the computer section of the library, Gabriella glanced at the clock. She wasn't exactly shocked, but disappointed that Troy had bailed on her. She had actually imagined him turning up, if only because drama seemed like a really big deal for him. She thought that he'd take a group project a big more seriously. How wrong she had been.

Typical. It was her first day and she was already getting messed around by some high school primo boy. He wasn't even that big of a deal. He could make a jump shot and recite a few lines for a play and everyone adored him. She'd been at a few different schools over the years, courtesy of her father's career, and she'd seen plenty of Troy Bolton's. It just so happened that East High's was the worst.

She flicked through _Romeo and Juliet_, reading the passages they had been assigned. She imagined Troy on stage, playing Romeo, vowing to love Juliet for eternity, and the entire female population of East High vowing to get his face tattooed on their butts. Sadly, she feared that the only way he would ever pull off playing Romeo Montague was because of his good looks.

She dug her cell phone from the bottom of her bag and saw that she had two texts from her father, a missed call from her brother, and a text from Sharpay, who had insisted on exchanging numbers at lunch. She replied to her father, ignored Sharpay and sent a text to her brother.

When she went back to the home screen of her phone, she stared at the clock blinking up at her. Twenty minutes. It had been twenty minutes since the last class finished. And she felt like an idiot for even waiting that long.

She grabbed her bag and headed out into the hall, her thumb hovering over Sharpay's name. She knew she might regret this but Sharpay gave the vibe of being someone who knew more about other people's business than her own.

"Sharpay speaking and if this is you, Jason, get off my phone," Sharpay yelled.

Gabriella hesitantly held her phone to her ear, not even realising that she had pressed 'call'. "Hi Sharpay, don't you have caller ID?"

There was a moment of rustling. "Sorry Gabriella. Jason and I don't exactly get along and he prank calls me nonstop."

Gabriella headed towards her locker. "Sorry to bother you. I was just wondering: do you know where Troy is?"

"He should be driving home right now. Why?"

"We agreed to work on the drama project after school and he was a no show. I just wondered if you knew where he was." She opened her locker and pulled out her motorcycle helmet, tucking it under arm.

"I'm sorry, I don't," Sharpay murmured.

"It's not your fault. I'll see you tomorrow. Bye Sharpay." Gabriella hung up and pushed her phone into the pocket of her jeans.

She headed towards the main entrance, passing by a few students who were evidently involved in extracurricular activities. Otherwise, the school was deserted.

She approached a classroom with the door open and halted in her tracks when she glanced in. Of course. Why hadn't she guessed that this was the outcome? She had a 4.0 GPA and had corrected Mr Russo in AP calculus. And still, she had been stupid enough to believe that Troy Bolton, East High's golden boy, cared about a grade.

She stepped closer to the door, looking in on Troy holding on to a cheerleader as if his life depended on it. The cheerleader was acting as if she was having trouble breathing and he was giving her mouth to mouth. Gabriella felt sure she was about to vomit.

She ran her hand through her hair, wondering if she should disturb them and what would happen if she did. What the hell? She wasn't exactly having a stellar day so far.

She banged her helmet against the row of lockers beside the door. The result was pretty comic and almost made up for the way Troy had acted towards her.

Troy and the cheerleader sprang apart as if they were being electrocuted. She collided with the teacher's desk, knocking a pile of papers flying. Troy, however, had attempted to jump on to one of the desks, promptly slid off, and fell to the floor. He jumped up and scratched the back of his head, trying and failing to act nonchalant. Gabriella hoped he was a better actor in the theatre.

The cheerleader smoothed her skirt and stepped towards Gabriella. "Listen, we'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone what we were doing. The school doesn't exactly approve of PDA, if you know what I mean." She winked at Gabriella. "How much will it cost to keep this our little secret?"

Gabriella quirked an eyebrow and looked the cheerleader up and down.

"Hello? Are you mute or something?" she exclaimed.

Troy suddenly clambered around the desks and skidded to a halt next to the cheerleader. "Uh, Katherine, this is Gabriella Montez. She's new here and we're project partners in drama class. Gabriella, this is Katherine."

Katherine frowned. "So what do you want?"

Gabriella looked up at Troy and just stared, wondering how long it would take him to remember. She could see Katherine out of the corner of her eye looking impatiently between the two.

Troy began shaking his head and shrugged. He opened his mouth and swiftly shut it again. "Gabriella," he began.

Without another word, Gabriella turned around and continued on her way to the parking lot.

"Wait. Gabriella, wait up," Troy called.

She heard the clatter of footsteps and a moment later, Troy was walking beside her. "I don't care, Troy."

"Let me explain," he pleaded.

"There's nothing to explain. I'm your project partner, not your girlfriend," she muttered.

"Look, I'm sorry." He grabbed her arm, forcing her to face him. "I hadn't seen Katherine all day. I completely spaced."

She shrugged. "Like I said: I don't care."

"What if we work on it now? I can come to your house. Or you can come to mine," he offered.

She sighed. "I don't really want your jerk germs in my house. And I don't want to go to yours. But we do have to make a start. Follow me to my house."


	4. Chapter Three

**A/N: Still no luck with the job front. Boo. I've just been writing this and poems and penpal letters. That sums up my days. Stay tuned for Chapter Four!**

* * *

Chapter Three

"Sorry about the mess," Gabriella apologised as she put her helmet and jacket in the hall closet. "We haven't exactly had the time to unpack."

Troy eyed the bare walls and the pile of boxes set at the bottom of the stairs. "I can tell. So do I get to see Gabriella Montez's bedroom?"

"No, you get to see her kitchen," she exclaimed as she led Troy down the hall. She set her bag on the island counter and gestured to the opposite side. "Take a seat."

He dropped onto a stool and began taking out the relevant books. He glanced around, noticing a couple of more boxes on the counters. They had evidently focussed on installing appliances, rather than unpacking. It looked more like a storage facility than a home. He thought about his own house where the floor was littered with pairs of sneaker, the walls were covered with pictures of the family, and the counters were usually cluttered with crockery but were clear of cardboard boxes. He'd never known anything different. He wouldn't even know where to start with packing things into boxes.

"Where is everyone?"

She shrugged. "Work." She tipped a packet of Oreos onto a plate and poured two glasses of milk.

He began dunking an Oreo into his milk.

She pulled a face as she set her laptop up. "I should've known you were a dunker."

He quirked an eyebrow. "And you're a twister?"

To prove a point, Gabriella twisted an Oreo, licked off the cream, and ate the remains. She logged onto her laptop and began searching for past production of _Romeo and Juliet_ to gain some inspiration. Drama had never been her strong point, which was pretty much the only reason she stayed to be Troy's partner. If he was as good as Ms Darbus said, he would be able to drag her grade up from the Cs she had been receiving her entire life.

She glanced over her laptop at him to see that he had spread several books in front of him. She spied a copy of the play, his notebook and what looked to be two textbooks. She focussed her attention back to her laptop but couldn't help but wonder why he was so into drama. From what she'd seen during the eight hours she'd known him, he had everything going for him and would bet solid hard cash on him receiving a basketball scholarship to the University of Albuquerque, which seemed to be the destination for athletes in New Mexico.

"So, have you thought about the project at all, or have your brain cells been preoccupied by Katherine all day?"

Troy glared across at her. "I apologised," he muttered. "Forgive me for wanting to relax for a while. And in answer to your question, yes. I have thought about it."

"Relaxation," she mused. "Because being the resident golden boy is so tough."

"Actually, it is," he exclaimed.

At the tone in his voice, she lifted her eyes to see frustration glistening in his eyes. She realised that he believed it was tough. Probably not in the spoilt way she had originally though. But it was clear something, or someone, was giving him a hard time.

Troy cleared his throat, realising what he had said. "I was thinking about costumes. We need a way to clearly distinguish the Montague's from the Capulet's."

She nodded slowly. "Right. Any ideas?"

"I came up with three key possibilities which all leave room to be tailored to appeal to high school students," he began.

"Go on." While he spoke, she logged into her Facebook, seeing several messages from her brother. She read each one but didn't reply.

"Well, I first though about stereotypical high school cliques: jocks and geeks," he explained.

"Pass," she mumbled, going back to her internet search results.

"What's wrong with it?"

She lifted her head. "Presumably Romeo would be the jock, which leaves Juliet to be the geek. It's demeaning. Not to mention how I'm the new girl and playing a geek won't do me any favours."

"Funny. I didn't think you worried about what people think," he said quietly.

"I've been the new girl before. I just don't want a label slapped on me so soon," she muttered. "Next idea."

"What about sports teams?"

She quirked an eyebrow. "What about them?"

"The rivalry," he said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "The Cowboys and the Eagles, Notre Dame and Stanford, the Yankees and the Red Sox, the Lakers and the Celtics. It's there, embedded in the nature of sport."

Gabriella frowned and was quiet for a moment.

"What's wrong with it?" he asked.

"It seems a little distant. A rivalry because the Montague's support the Lakers and the Capulet's support the Celtics? It seems a little...loose."

He rolled his eyes. "Okay. And this is the last one. If you don't like it, it's on to you. Schools."

"Schools? I prefer the stereotypes," she exclaimed.

"No, listen to me. You heard people talk about the West High Knights, right?"

"Taylor mentioned them when we were talking about the scholastic decathlon," she said slowly.

"They're the Wildcats' biggest rivals on every sport. Even the teachers hate each other. So when it's a championship game, it's a pretty big deal," he explained.

Gabriella stood up and paced the kitchen floor. "Interesting," she muttered. She stopped in her tracks and faced him. "It could work. Not to mention how the class will relate to it."

He shrugged. "Those were my thoughts."

"You have to be the Knight," they exclaimed at the same time.

Troy glared. "Why do I have to be the Knight?"

She shrugged. "I'm the new girl. I don't want a reputation of supporting the enemy. Besides, you're East High's golden boy. If you're the Knight, it's a risky artistic choice. It would be like using a freshman as a shooting guard for the championship game."

He frowned, cocked his head to the side and stared, absentmindedly tapping his pen on the counter.

She folded her arms. "What?"

"Nothing. It's nothing. So we're going with the Knights and the Wildcats?"

"Sure. I'll go to the school store tomorrow and buy a t-shirt."

"You can borrow my letterman jacket if you'd like," he offered.

"Thanks. How are you going to get a Knight t-shirt?"

He shrugged. "I know a guy. Okay, a guy at West High owes me a favour. Okay, my cousin owes me a favour."

She laughed. "You have a cousin at West High."

"I have a cousin who prints t-shirts for a living," he mumbled, pulling a face. "Anyway, what have you been thinking about? With the project."

"Well, something needs to be done about the language. Not necessarily change it to how we speak."

"Why not?"

She gave him a look. "Romeo, why do you, like, have to be, like, Romeo?"

He rolled his eyes. "I see your point. So what do we do?"

She picked up another Oreo and licked the cream off first. She leaned back against the refrigerator and closed her eyes. She pictured herself as Juliet Capulet, donned in East High school colours and Troy dressed in West High clothes. She tried to imagine how Juliet from high school should speak and what high school students should hear. Grabbed her copy of the play and reread the passage.

"Music!" she exploded.

He raised his eyebrows. "What?"

She pushed the book in front of him. "It's all here. The majority of it is in iambic pentameter so the rhythm and the rhyme is there. If we add music to it-"

"-we'll turn it into a musical which is the best way to attract teenagers," he mumbled sarcastically.

She threw an Oreo at him. "I don't mean it that way. What about...rap?"

"What do you know about rap?"

"My brother discovered Kriss Kross when he was about fourteen. He even had braids. Suffice to say that rap was all you could hear in a five block radius."

"What broke him out of it?"

"He got rejected from the entire female population of the high school for the Christmas dance," she explained.

"Nice," he mumbled.

"Rap's easy. Really. You just need a beat and you just go with it."

He quirked an eyebrow. "If it's so easy, do it. Right here. Right now."

She held his gaze, wondering if she should. She hadn't rapped since she was about ten and, even when she had, it had been in the comfort of her own bedroom. Part of her wanted to take the entire thing back. The other part knew it was the way to go. She flashed back to her obsession with the TV show _Saved By The Bell. _The gang had performed _Snow White_ with rap and it had worked. It could work for _Romeo and Juliet_ as well.

"Give me that," she snapped as she snatched her copy of the play from his hands. "Okay. This would be me." She quickly read through the text and glanced up at Troy. Before she started rapping, she began clapping her hand on her thigh, giving her something to work with.

_Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,  
Which mannerly devotion shows in this,  
For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch,  
And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss._

The words came out in a clear albeit rocky rhythm. It was harder than she'd remembered but she felt it. The meaning worked with the rhythm and she pictured the ending when Romeo and Juliet died, even though they didn't have to perform it, and knew it would work just as well. The rhythm was seductive, flirtatious and dramatic, everything that a Shakespearean tragedy was all about.

When she finished, she took a moment to catch her breath. "Don't laugh."

"I wasn't going to. I mean, it'll need work but hey, I've never rapped in my entire life," he said, shrugging. "I think it'll work. It's outside of the box, that's for sure."

Before she could respond, the front door opened and she turned to see her father walk in. Of course, she couldn't even get a word out before Spanish was spilling from his lips. She watched him put his things away, wondering what Troy was thinking. But when she glanced at him, she found him looking back at her.

"_Mi hija_, I didn't know you'd invited a friend over," Greg Montez exclaimed, his voice thick with a Spanish accent.

Gabriella shut down her laptop and began shuffling her books together, anything so she wouldn't have to look at Troy or her father. "We're not friends," she said at the same time as Troy. She glanced up, surprised and somewhat hurt that he had said it as well.

She coughed. "We're project partners," she explained, finally looking up at Greg. "Drama project."

Greg nodded in understanding and held his hand out. "Greg Montez."

Troy stood and shook his hand. "Troy Bolton."

A smile spread across Greg's face. "Troy Bolton. Captain of the basketball team."

Troy blushed a rather unmanly shade of pink. "That's me. How'd you know?"

"I work at U of A. You're all people talk about," Greg exclaimed.

Gabriella nudged his arm. "Papi," she warned and began loading the used crockery into the dishwasher.

"Right. Sorry about that," Greg apologised.

"It's fine. I should probably get going." Troy loaded his books into his bag. "Nice to meet you."

Gabriella led him towards the front door. "Sorry about him. He's excited about his new job."

Troy shrugged. "It's cool. I'll see you tomorrow?"

She nodded. "Let's do this again and work on our rapping skills."

He laughed.

"Did Troy Bolton just laugh at something I just said?"

"Don't tell anybody."

"No one will hear it from me," she promised.

* * *

Over the course of the next few days, Troy and Gabriella continued to work on their rapping skills after school and getting on each others' nerves during school. She had been introduced to all of his friends: Chad, Taylor, Jason, Kelsi, Zeke, Sharpay, Ryan and Martha. They were all nicer than anyone she knew at her previous schools. The only downside, of course, was Troy who was flaunted around by Katherine like a trophy and she clearly despised Gabriella. She supposed it was because she had caught their on-campus affection and she was Troy's project partner.

Despite that, Gabriella had never felt more included. All of Troy's friends had made her feel welcome, asked her about her studies and her motorcycle. She helped Taylor and Sharpay with preparations for the dance and she was actually excited about it. She'd even gone shopping with the girls to buy an appropriate outfit (Sharpay had made her disdain of leather and denim perfectly clear).

Overall, it was a promising start to her senior year.

It was this stream of thought that was interrupted by Sharpay pressing a piece of paper against Gabriella's face .

Gabriella pushed it away and sputtered. "What the hell is this?" She looked down at a hand painted paper oak leaf.

Sharpay sat down in the empty seat beside her in the library. "We're running out of time. The dance is tomorrow and we only have a third of the decorations done."

Gabriella yawned, covering her mouth with her hand. "But I've been painting these leaves until midnight every day."

Sharpay shrugged. "I know. But we're way behind schedule and Taylor is running frantic, saying that the ball will be a disaster."

Gabriella looked down at the leaf. "Why do I not like where this is going?"

"I know you're new and you're not technically a member of the dance committee but you've been such a huge help so far. The only way we're going to do this is by pulling an allnighter," she explained.

"But it takes me a good half an hour just to make one to a Sharpay standard. And I've had my dad helping me!" Gabriella protested, rubbing her forehead. She kept thinking about her project with Troy. They'd made progress but it still needed work. She could only imagine how long she'd be up combining her work with Troy and her work for the dance.

Sharpay pulled a pleading face. "Please? We're desperate."

Gabriella looked around the library and saw Troy sitting at the far side, at the back. She saw earphones plugged in his ears and he was scribbling in a notebook. She watched him stretch his back muscles and saw him look over in her direction. He relaxed and held her gaze. He neither smiled nor frowned and she couldn't tell what he was thinking. It made her nervous, even nauseous.

"Gabriella," Sharpay exclaimed, clicking her fingers, snapping Gabriella out of her trance..

"Ssh!" Ms Flagstaff, the librarian whispered from the desk.

"Sorry," the girls said in unison.

"Please,"Sharpay whispered.

Gabriella sighed. "Look, Troy and I will be working on our drama project all evening, finalising the details. It's not ready. But," she said, holding up her finger. She saw Sharpay opened her mouth and Gabriella stopped her in her tracks, "once we've finished for the night, I'll stay up as long as it takes to finish those leaves. I'll even ask my brother and his girlfriend to help."

Sharpay breathed an audible sigh of relief. "Gabby, you don't know what this means to me."

"I prefer Gabriella," she mumbled. "But whatever. You owe me."

Sharpay hugged her. "I'll see you later. I have to go and find Taylor. God knows how Chad's coping."

Before Gabriella could respond, Sharpay had left the library. She sighed, looking down at the in progress report that had to accompany hers and Troy's performance. They had to outline the technicalities: desired audience and what their chosen components would achieve. She and Troy had been so focussed on perfecting their rapping skills that they'd kind of forgotten about it.

She glanced back up to see Troy still looking at her. She raised her hand in a small waved but he only smiled in response. The kind smile someone makes in response to something funny. He turned back to his work and Gabriella turned back to hers, wondering where his precious girlfriend was.


	5. Chapter Four

**A/N: Hello, hello, hello! It's been a while, I know. But I've been a bit busy. I've found myself a temporary job as a kitchen assistant which loosely translates to washer-upper/cleaner/hot-chocolate-drinker/breakfast-eater. BUT I GET PAID FOR IT!**

**I'm going on holiday in a few weeks to a place called Hay-on-Wye that has THIRTY BOOK SHOPS! Can you say Heaven? And I'm going to have three more guinea pigs. Don't call me crazy.**

**Anyway, I've been watching a sit com called 'Miranda' which is hilarious so I might write a oneshot for that.**

**Anyway, on with the show, my friends! :)**

* * *

Chapter Four

Troy tapped his pencil on his notebook as he twisted in his seat to glare at the door of the auditorium. After all of her infuriating lectures about him not taking school seriously and kissing Katherine more than he did homework, she does this.

He glanced around at all of the students dressed in various costumes and themes. Chad was sporting a rather fetching outfit consisting of some sort of tunic and tights. Troy, of course, was wearing a West High Knights t-shirt and letterman jacket. He felt like he was going to burst into flames for wearing it on campus.

Gabriella had been a pain in the neck since her first day. What was he thinking when he thought being partnered with her would be a good idea? The closest she'd come to complimenting him was using his idea for the Montague's and the Capulet's. He knew he hadn't acted much better towards her but he hadn't jeopardised their grade.

And here he was, surrounded by his classmates in their costumes, waiting for Ms Darbus to arrive, and no sign of Gabriella whatsoever. He glanced at his watch. Two minutes to go.

He leaned forward in his seat and tapped Sharpay on her shoulder. "Shar, do you know where Gabriella is?"

She turned around and frowned, glancing at the other students. "No, I don't. I haven't seen her since yesterday. Have you tried her cell?"

"Every five minutes since I woke up."

"We need to work on your stalking skills," she mumbled. "Maybe she's sick."

He ran his hand through his hair and thought about. It was conceivable. She'd just moved across the country, she was at a new school and meeting new people. It was bound to leave anyone worn down. It was plausible. But in the mere week Gabriella had been at East High, Troy had learned a lot about her. Most prominently, she was stubborn. Specifically with school, meaning she wouldn't sacrifice a grade for anything. She'd told him that when she was a freshman, she'd given an oral presentation, even though she'd had laryngitis at the time. Where a normal student would kill for a chance to miss school, Gabriella fought to be there.

The idea of her being sick suddenly seemed unrealistic.

He shook his head. "I don't think she's one to let a sickness bug keep her from school."

Zeke twisted in his seat. "Maybe she's intimidated by the drama king."

Troy hit his friend on the shoulder. "This isn't a time for jokes. You know that drama is the only thing besides basketball that I'm good at. I did it to get into a good college."

"Ow," Zeke complained. "I'm sorry. I'm trying to make you feel better. Anyway, who knew we would live to see the day when the Wildcat superstar would be stood up."

"This isn't a date, moron," Troy exclaimed.

Zeke shrugged. "Still counts."

The chatter of students died down to mumbles as Ms Darbus climbed the steps up to the stage and stood in the centre, facing her class. "Welcome to the wonders of the theatre. We have two hours for you to perform your projects to the entire class."

Troy shuffled in his seat and turned around to look at the door again.

"Mr Bolton, as you are the star of the drama club and seem so anxious to perform, would you like to go first?" Ms Darbus asked as she left the stage and headed towards the table a few rows from the front. She usually used it to watch auditions for plays and shows. But today, she was grading projects.

"But Ms Darbus-" he began.

"You have two minutes to prepare yourselves," Ms Darbus exclaimed.

Troy sighed as he gripped his folder and made his way to the stage. He stood where Ms Darbus had stood and opened his folder. "For mine and Gabriella's project, we were assigned Act I, Scene v, which is Romeo and Juliet's first kiss. Of course, our focus was Romeo and Juliet's interaction. We decided to target this specifically to our classmates by centring the feud on the conflict between the Wildcats and the Knights while using contemporary musical elements."

"Fascinating, Mr Bolton. But do you plan on starting your performance any time soon?" Ms Darbus asked.

Troy closed the folder and looked back towards the door one final time. He nodded in defeat and went backstage to put a CD into the sound system. After he pushed a few buttons, a clear beat thudded throughout the auditorium. He wandered back to centre stage and tugged on his blue West High shirt.

He couldn't believe it. He almost wanted to cry. It was the one thing he was good at besides basketball, the one class he wasn't just scraping by. He was actually excelling in drama, he was one of the top of the class. And Gabriella said how bad she was at drama and she was the one jeopardising their grade.

He'd never been afraid of a grade before. But he was terrified of this one.

"Mr Bolton, do you plan on beginning? Where is Miss Montez?"

Clenching his hands into fists, Troy closed his eyes and let Shakespeare's words flow from his mouth. The extra rehearsals he and Gabriella had taken paid off when the words came out in an almost-flawless beat. He was no Kanye West but he was pretty proud of himself. Of course, the thought did occur to him that maybe he would've been better if Gabriella had actually shown up.

_If I profane with my unworthiest hand_

_This holy shrine, the gentle sin is this:_

_My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand_

_To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss._

Troy looked beyond his classmates to the door at the back of the auditorium, feeling a lump form in the back of his throat. He was actually going to cry. He could feel it. It was humiliating enough to be standing on stage, performing a pair project without his partner. And now he was going to cry in front of his entire drama class.

"To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss," he repeated.

Ms Darbus was clearly becoming impatient and who could blame her? Her star pupil was becoming a train wreck right before her very eyes.

"To smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss," he repeated once again in a pathetic mumble. He closed his eyes, imagining that he was any place than East High's auditorium.

"That's enough, Mr Bolton," Ms Darbus said sternly. "If Miss Montez is not prepared to participate, I will have to fail you."

"Good pilgrim," a voice blurted in a breathless gasp.

Troy turned around in time for Gabriella to burst from stage left and crash into his chest, causing him to stumble backwards. As Gabriella gained her balance and caught her breath, he flashed her a quick glare. He quickly went back into character and replaced the glare with a look of love.

Gabriella sent him a clear apologetic look as she opened her mouth and began to rap.

_Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much,  
Which mannerly devotion shows in this,  
For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch,  
And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss._

Although he was furious, he couldn't help but love how much effort she had put into her costume. He reluctantly admitted how beautiful she was in her red tank top with the Wildcat logo emblazoned on the front and his white letterman jacket hanging from her shoulders. He was even more shocked to see that she had abandoned her usual jeans and leather boots and opted for a white skirt and some high heels. She looked, in a word, hot.

He replied just as they had rehearsed, pushing his anger aside. They could do it. They could salvage their grade and get the A the project deserved. Or at least a B.

"Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?"

"Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer," she responded in perfect time with the beat.

It was getting closer to the kiss and Troy felt his stomach churn as he always did whenever he kissed onstage. They hadn't rehearsed the kiss, of course, feeling it would be awkward enough without rehearsing it. He wanted to look at Ms Darbus to gage her reaction but refrained, instead focussing entirely on Gabriella.

_O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do.  
They pray; grant thou, lest faith turn to despair._

Gabriella flipped her long hair over her shoulder as she rapped her reply, "Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake."

Here it was. After this line, they would kiss and it had to be convincing. He just hoped she was a good kisser and could pretend to be in love with him. "Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take."

He swallowed hard as he held her hands and looked in her eyes. He knew they were looking for longer than they'd rehearsed but he didn't care. He had to calm his nerves. But, a moment later, he pressed his lips to hers.

He expected to instantly pull back, to bow at his classmates and move on to the next project. Instead, he stayed like that: eyes closed, holding her hands, moving his lips against hers. He had never felt so peaceful. He almost forgot why they were kissing in the first place.

He let go of her hands and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer, feeling her arms wind around his neck. He was vaguely aware of the auditorium getting quieter and he struggled to understand why. After a moment, he realised the backing track they'd been using to rap against had been stopped.

The silence was then replaced by wolf whistles by his classmates and he pushed Gabriella away, realising how long they'd been kissing and how much he had _enjoyed_ it. He tried to avert his gaze away from Gabriella but caught the look of confusion and hurt that flashed through her eyes.

"What passion," Ms Darbus exclaimed. "For a moment, I thought Miss Montez was actually late and how inventive you made that scene. I award you an A."

Without acknowledging their grade, the pair hurried from the stage to head back towards their seats. As Gabriella sat down, Troy made sure to leave two empty seats between them.

Now that the godforsaken project was over, he needed to stay away from her.

* * *

After the final project had been performed and the class had been dismissed, Troy sauntered from his seat, being the first one to leave the auditorium. Gabriella hurried after him, trying to keep up but finding it nearly impossible in the heels she'd borrowed from her brother's girlfriend.

"Troy," she called, pushing through the throng of students that emerged from various classrooms. "Troy! For God's sake, slow down."

He abruptly turned around glared down at her as she skidded to a stop. "Leave me alone," he mumbled.

"I just want to say that I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be late but I overslept because I was up all night-"

He held his hand up, cutting her off. "Honestly? I don't care. What I do care about is my drama grade because it is the one thing in my life that I'm remotely good at besides basketball and you jeopardised that. I told you all of this when we were first partnered together."

"I know and I am sorry. And thank you for starting the project. If you'd have told Ms Darbus I wasn't there, I just know I would've flunked the whole semester of drama so thank you. You saved my butt. I'm actually impressed by your enthusiasm for something other than basketball," she praised, smiling up at him.

"I'm thrilled you're impressed," he muttered in a bored tone. "But the good news is that we'll never have to do anything together ever again. See ya."

Without another word, Troy turned around and walked away.

Gabriella sighed and headed to her locker, shrugging off Troy's ever-so-comfy letterman jacket. As she hung Troy's jacket up in her locker and swapped her books around, Taylor approached and leaned against the locker next to Gabriella's.

"Hey Gabby," she said in greeting.

"I've told you: it's Gabriella, damn it!" Gabriella snapped. She instantly saw the look of hurt that flashed through Taylor's eyes and sighed. "I'm sorry. Bad day."

"Why? You got an A on your drama project."

"Oh, I don't know. I overslept because I stayed up until four in the morning making paper leaves for a dance, so I was late and now Troy won't talk to me," Gabriella explained.

Taylor paused for a moment. "Thanks for your help, by the way."

Gabriella shrugged. "It's okay. I have to go anyway. I have sleep to catch up on and grades to maintain."

All morning, Gabriella had got answers wrong, been chastised by teachers for not paying attention, and had even been caught dozing once or twice. It was awful. The only good thing about the day was that her drama project had been salvaged thanks to Troy. So Gabriella counted her blessings when the bell rang for lunch.

After she had paid for her lunch, she paused in her tracks, looking over to the table that Troy and his friends occupied. She couldn't see Troy but Sharpay, Zeke, Chad and Ryan were already there. Could she sit there, knowing Troy was still so angry at her? And who could blame him?

Of course, following the pattern of her day so far, her thoughts were interrupted by a bizarre cold, wet feeling on her chest. When she focussed on the matter at hand, she realised that Katherine, Troy's girlfriend no less, had pushed Gabriella's lunch of questionable Friday surprise into her chest. She couldn't help feeling angry that her first ever display of school spirit was now stained with a questionable sauce.

She dropped the tray and plate to the floor and tried to scrape as much food from her shirt as possible. "What the hell?"

"You kissed my boyfriend," Katherine yelled, causing silence to fall throughout the entire cafeteria.

Gabriella shrugged. "It was a drama project."

"You still kissed him," Katherine hissed.

"So you'd rather your boyfriend fail than him kiss another girl?" Gabriella exclaimed, throwing a handful of Friday surprise onto Katherine's cheerleading uniform.

"This is designer," Katherine yelled.

"It's a cheerleader uniform," Gabriella explained slowly.

"That I had designed by-"

"Katherine? Gabriella? What's going on?" Troy asked slowly as he approached, carrying his usual brown paper bag and carton of milk.

"She threw my lunch at me," Gabriella exclaimed.

"She kissed you," Katherine yelled.

"For a project," Gabriella retorted just as loudly.

Katherine paused, evidently realising she had no other argument, so she repeated herself, "She kissed you."

"You do know that I want to pursue a career in the theatre, right? I will be kissing other girls. Not because I love them but because I'm working with them," Troy explained.

"You can't!"

"You're going to forbid me from going into the theatre because I'll kiss other girls? Oh, we're so over," Troy said with a sarcastic laugh.

Katherine's face fell. "What?"

"You try to dictate what I can do with my life and you throw food at someone? Please."

"All you've done is complain about her all week."

"That doesn't mean I'd throw food at her," Troy exclaimed. "Now if you'll excuse us, I'm going to clean up your mess."

Without another word, Troy strode towards the exit. Gabriella paused, unsure if she was supposed to follow. But then Troy called her and she felt a sense of pride that Troy had chosen her over Katherine. She couldn't help but smirk when she saw two other cheerleaders wiping down Katherine's uniform.

Gabriella hurried after Troy as best she could in her heels towards the boys' locker room. "Wait, what are we doing here?"

He shrugged. "It's empty. I thought you could use a towel and have a different shirt. My dad keeps some spares for tryouts. Unless, of course, you'd rather fall asleep and turn up late to your next class?"

"Fine," she whispered, grateful that he was actually talking to her. She followed him into the locker room and stood awkwardly as he disappeared into the back office. She looked around at the lockers and school spirit banners, recognising the scent of sweat mixed with disinfectant. It had been a while since she'd smelt the signature fragrance of a locker room and she welcomed it. She even missed it.

"I mean, this is just the best day of my life," Troy continued to rant. "I'll skip over the project controversy because it ended well and I think I've covered it sufficiently. But now I've lost my girlfriend."

Feeling her blood pressure rising at the sound of Troy's persistent angry rant, Gabriella blurted, "Like you're disappointed."

Troy threw a towel in her direction. "And what does that mean?"

She began wiping down her shirt and dabbing at the skirt that her brother's girlfriend would definitely have to throw out. "You can't tell me that you seriously had feelings for her? She's a complete bitch."

He left again while ranting, "Well, you wouldn't understand because you're clearly incapable of social interaction, much less know anything about a romantic relationship."

As he came back with a clean t-shirt in hand, Gabriella peeled her stained tank top from her body and screwed it into a ball to dry the residual sauce that clung to her skin.

"Besides, what I feel for- Oh my god, you're shirtless," he exclaimed. He knew he should look away to save her dignity but he couldn't. An inner voice told him that if she was worried about dignity, she wouldn't have taken her shirt off in front of him in the boys' locker room. But the real reason he kept looking was that she was so goddamn beautiful. Her skin was exotically tanned, contrasting with her white bra and skirt. All he could do was stare and stare. And stare.

"Oh, did my shirt turn invisible again? I've been meaning to get that fixed," she said sarcastically, throwing her tank top at him.

Snapping out of his daze, he caught the screwed up material. "Why are you mad at me?"

"Let's see: you've been a pain in my ass since my first day. I apologised for being late but you won't listen to me and now look. This is all your precious girlfriend's fault," she yelled at him.

Troy marched closer and towered over her. "Who I broke up with because she threw food at you."

"Don't do me any favours."

Without saying another word, he gripped her hips and crashed his lips onto hers, causing her to stumble backwards into the row of lockers. She kissed back just as hard, of course, as she wound her fingers into his hair. Their bodies were flush against each other and the heat between them was excruciating. He couldn't help but rub his hands up and down her back, feeling her hot skin beneath his fingertips.

He couldn't breathe. He knew he needed to pull away for breath for one thing, and because he wasn't into her at all. Right? He had no reason to kiss her besides the fact that he enjoyed kissing her.

Still, he kept his mouth pressed against hers. He wanted to know why she wasn't pushing him away, slapping him, and marching straight to the principal's office to report him. But he didn't really care because she was kissing him and it was one of the most wonderful experiences of his life.

He wondered if he should use his tongue or if that was pushing it too far. Thankfully, the choice was taken out of his hands when her tongue met his own in a rush of heat.

After a few more moments, Troy pushed himself away from her and stumbled back, leaving them both breathless. He knew Gabriella was staring at him, probably waiting for him to ask her out, but he couldn't even look her in the eye. Instead, he picked up the shirt he'd fetched from his father's office and awkwardly handed it to her.

"There's the shirt. Sorry, it'll be a bit big. I'm sorry, I've got to be...anyplace else. Bye Gabriella," he mumbled before he rushed out of the locker room, leaving Gabriella shirtless and all alone.


	6. Chapter Five

**A/N: Hey, howdy, hey. How's it going? Well, I'm back from vacation and I have my three extra guinea pigs. If someone could find a job and tie it up in a bow for me, that'd be great :)**

* * *

Chapter Five

When Greg Montez answered the door, he didn't expect to see four high school girls dressed for a dance. "¿Qué?"

The blonde rolled her eyes. "Are you pulling the fake Spanish crap to get us to leave? Gabi did the same thing on her first day."

"She prefers Gabriella," Greg mumbled. "Didn't she tell you? She decided not to go."

Taylor frowned. "Why not?"

Greg shrugged. "She wouldn't tell me. And there are things that a father doesn't want to know about his daughter."

"Where is she?" Sharpay asked impatiently.

"_Mi hija_," Greg called up the stairs.

Gabriella marched down the stairs, dressed in an oversized U of A sweatshirt and some sweatpants, and halted halfway down. She looked at the four girls who had become her friends and rolled her eyes. She turned around to go back to her bedroom but came face to face with a satin dress.

"Just try it on," the girl holding the dress exclaimed.

Gabriella descended the last few stairs and stood with her arms folded, avoiding everyone's eyes. "I'm not going," she repeated for the hundredth time.

"I'm just assuming that this isn't some kind drug cult so I'll be in my office," Greg mumbled as he went down the hall.

"Is your dad okay?" Kelsi asked.

"Girl stuff makes him uncomfortable," Gabriella explained.

"Just try it on," the girl holding the dress repeated.

"Who are you?" Sharpay asked.

"Oh, I'm Shauna, Ricky's girlfriend," she explained.

"And Ricky is..." Martha trailed off.

Shauna flipped her red hair over her shoulder. "I'm not sure this is the matter at hand but Ricky is her older brother. And the longer we keep talking about my relationship, the longer she's not at the dance."

"I'm really not going," Gabriella protested as she pushed through her friends and went to the kitchen, pouring herself a coffee.

"Just tell us why," Kelsi said quietly.

Gabriella slammed her cup down and turned to them. "You want to know why? Troy Bolton is a complete and utter _pendejo_." She descended into a complicated string of Spanish that even Taylor couldn't follow.

Shauna rolled her eyes and reached over to a pot full of spatulas, ladles, and tongs. She grabbed a handful and dropped them onto the floor.

Everyone jumped and Gabriella stopped her tirade. "What the hell?"

Shauna sighed. "You and your brother are too alike for your own good. You need to speak English. What did this Troy do?"

"Have you not been listening to me the whole week?"

Shauna shrugged. "Not really."

"First day: he throws a strop because I use his parking space. Then he throws a strop because we have to kiss in our drama project. Then he won't let me explain why I was late for said project. Then he blames me because he broke up with his girlfriend. Then he kisses me in the locker room and just leaves me there," Gabriella explained, her hands waving manically in the air.

"You kissed?" everyone exclaimed.

"Question," Shauna said, raising her hand. She turned to Sharpay, Taylor, Kelsi, and Martha. "Does she know that she likes him?"

The girls shook their heads.

Gabriella laughed. "I don't like him."

"Would you stand up in court, put your hand on a Bible, and repeat that?" Taylor asked.

Gabriella shifted and sighed. "Maybe a little. When he kisses me. But he doesn't want anything to do with me. He won't let me explain why I was late and then he just left after he kissed me."

"Just...soften your image," Martha explained.

Sharpay nodded. "Lose the boots and the leather. And just talk."

Gabriella looked at the floor. "I'm not too great at the 'soft' look."

"You can start with this," Shauna said, holding out the dress.

* * *

Outside of the gym which was pulsing the bass of pop music, Gabriella slipped into the silver heels Shauna had let her borrow which, according to Sharpay, perfectly matched the blue dress Shauna had also leant to her. She fiddled with the hemline which fell just above her knees. Honestly, she felt kind of exposed. She'd worn shorts that were shorter than this dress and Troy had seen her without a shirt and she still felt naked.

She peeked through the open doors and spotted Troy sitting on the bleachers. She felt nauseas at the sight of Katherine sat next to him and turned away to take a breath. She could act like a girl and soften her image. She could do that.

She touched the messy bun that Shauna had fixed on top of her head, smiling at Sharpay as the girls approached.

"You'll be fine," Kelsi promised.

"We have to go and meet up with the boys. They'll be trying to play basketball around all of the decorations, I just know it," Taylor mumbled.

Gabriella watched the girls disappear into the crowd of dancing students and her gaze landed on the spot that Troy had occupied just a minute earlier. Now, Katherine was surrounded by what seemed to be the entire cheerleading squad and was crying into a napkin. Gabriella looked around the gym, trying to spot Troy but he wasn't there.

She almost considered phoning Ricky to pick her up. The girls wouldn't know until it was too late to force her to stay. But she was wearing heels, in a gorgeous dress and the girls had made such an effort on her.

She hobbled over to Chad and Taylor by the refreshments table.

"Whoa, I thought you cleaned up nice for the project. Look at this. Let me guess: Shar?" Chad asked.

Gabriella gave him a small smile. "A combination of everyone. Do you know where Troy is?"

Chad and Taylor glanced around the gym. "I haven't seen him recently. The last I saw, Katherine was practically forcing him to strip. You could check the garden."

"What garden?"

She followed Taylor's directions through the cafeteria and pulled open the yellow door in front of her. Staring up at the flight of stairs which opened right onto the roof, according to Chad, she felt like she was going to throw up. She slipped her shoes back off, knowing she'd break her neck if she tried to climb them in heels.

When she emerged onto the roof, she was greeted by the scents of the colourful flowers that surrounded her. Not being raised in a family of green fingers, she had no idea what she was looking at. What she did know, however, was that Troy was leaning against the railing, looking out at the Albuquerque landscape, only lit by streetlamps and the moon.

"Hey," Gabriella mumbled.

He twisted his head to glance at her but then turned back to the scene in front of him. "Hi."

She paused only for a moment before she stepped up beside him. "It's beautiful."

"Yeah."

He didn't even glance at her, just kept looking straight ahead.

She discreetly looked him up and down. In some jeans, sneakers, shirt and blazer, he hadn't exactly made an effort. But she wasn't surprised. The moment she saw Troy Bolton in a tux would be the moment she learned how to straighten her hair and curl her eyelashes. Still, he didn't have to try to look good.

She swallowed the lump in her throat and rubbed her arms as a breeze rustled the flower petals. "It's kind of chilly tonight."

"Yeah," he repeated.

Taking the hint, Gabriella turned and quietly walked down the stairs, heading back to the gym. He clearly didn't want to talk and that was fine by her. His friends would obviously choose him because...why wouldn't they? They'd known him their whole lives and she was just the new girl.

Still, she couldn't help feeling something she couldn't put a name to. Not exactly being feminine, her relationship history wasn't exactly a bestseller in the romance section. She'd owned socks longer than her relationships had lasted. So the feeling of undeniable disappointment that he clearly didn't want to even acknowledge her existence was alien to her and she literally had no idea how to deal with it.

She made her way back to the gym barefoot and spotted Chad and Zeke sat on the bleachers. "Where are the girls?" she asked, avoiding their eyes.

Zeke pointed over to the dance floor. "Chad joked that there is more glitter on Shar's dress than there is in a nursery classroom. Tay banished him from the dance floor. Shar demanded that I follow and teach Chad a lesson."

"Banished?"

"She actually used that word," Chad mumbled. "Are you okay?"

Gabriella forced herself to swallow the lump in her throat. "I will be. Can you tell the girls that they were wrong? Troy's not interested. He wouldn't even look me in the eyes. I'm going to go. I hope you have a great night."

Chad stood up. "Do you want me to give you a ride home?"

She shook her head. "I'm going to call my brother. I'll see you later."

* * *

Zeke Baylor was a healthy guy. At seventeen years old, he had spent the majority of his life playing sports. Basketball, baseball, he'd even taken dance lessons as a child. So he had a pretty good stamina and was one of the fastest runners in the school. Still, as he sprinted down the hall in pursuit of his girlfriend, he still struggled to catch up with Sharpay. She was wearing five inch stiletto heels and a skin tight dress and she was moving faster than him in an attempt to get to Troy.

After Chad and Zeke and bravely ventured back onto the dance floor and Chad had begged for Shapay's and Taylor's forgiveness, they explained what Gabriella had said and Sharpay had moved so fast, that it had taken them a few moments to notice that she'd gone.

As Sharpay marched up the stairs to the rooftop garden, Zeke was hot on her heels and grabbed her hand as she emerged onto roof.

"What the hell, Bolton?" Sharpay yelled. "What is your problem? Why won't you listen to Gabriella?"

Zeke stepped in front of her and held her face between his hands. "Remember what we talked about," he whispered.

She closed her eyes and nodded. "Prada, Gucci, Chanel, Nina Ricci, Dior, Dolce and Gabbanna."

"Okay?" Zeke asked.

She opened her eyes and released a deep breath as Zeke stepped away. "Okay."

Troy glanced towards them and rolled his eyes. "Give it a rest. I've known you since we were three. You don't scare me anymore."

Sharpay yanked on his arm so he could face her. "Talk to me. Why won't you listen to Gabriella?"

"She was late to the project," Troy mumbled, but both Zeke and Shar could tell that it wasn't the whole reason.

"She apologised. And do you know why she was late? Did you listen to her long enough to find out why she slept in so late?" Sharpay demanded.

"It's not the point," he protested.

"She was helping me make decorations for this dance. Did she tell you that? She agreed to help a group of people on her first day. Because that's who she is. Now I know you. What else is there?"

Zeke grinned at Troy. "Please tell me you're going to tell her on the first go. I don't want to be up here all night while she interrogates you."

Troy rolled his eyes. "Fine. I don't know what to do about her. I can't control myself. Not since we kissed. She makes me so angry and at the same time, I really want to make out with her. I broke up with Katherine and, yeah, I'm relieved I finally had a reason but I kind of want to process it. It all happened so fast, you know."

"So you want her in your life? You're not going to act like she's merely a composition of molecules?" Sharpay asked.

"Fine," he mumbled. "I'll talk to her on Monday."

"Like hell you will. If you want her to take you and your friendship, possibly a relationship, seriously, you need to talk to her now. She's outside waiting for her brother and probably hoping you'll show up, too," she explained. "And take some pie."

After stopping by the gym to pick up a slice of pumpkin pie, he made his way out of the main entrance to the school. He looked around, trying to find Gabriella. Concluding that her brother had picked her up, he turned around to head back inside, only to hear the familiar rhythmic sound of a bouncing basketball.

He jogged down the steps, trying to figure out where it was coming from. It had to be her. She used to play. He'd never seen her play but from what Principal Matsui said, she was pretty good. Glancing back at East High's main entrance, he made his way to the outside basketball court. Next to the student parking lot and surrounded by a mesh fence, it was out of the way of the main building. In the spring and summer, gym class and basketball practice were both held out here. Ultimately, it was his territory. He was comfortable and at ease here. He knew everything he needed to know: what his teammates were about to do and what his opponents were about to do.

Yet, as he approached and saw Gabriella shooting baskets, he had never felt more nervous or more clueless about what was going to happen on that basketball court.

He slipped through the doorway in the fence and watched Gabriella quietly for a moment. She was barefoot, her hair had been released from her bun, and there was a bright pink graze on her left knee from where she must've tripped over since leaving the dance.

Her movements were slow and deliberate. She wasn't playing basketball as such. She wasn't running, wasn't even jogging. But at the other end of the court, she would walk in a wide arc while dribbling the ball, shoot a perfect basket, catch it, and start the whole thing all over again.

He tried to analyse her aim. Her shooting was flawless. Although she didn't have the height of a stereotypical basketball player, he had never seen such precision. She didn't even use the backboard. Even he wasn't that accurate.

"Oh," she gasped as she turned around and saw him.

Troy cleared his throat and approached, holding the piece of pie out. "I brought you some pie."

She took it from him and held his gaze, trying to suss whether there was a punch line. "Why?"

He shrugged. "A reliable source told me that you are a fan of pumpkin pie."

She smiled as she took a bite. "I am and this is the best pumpkin pie I've ever had."

"It's one of Zeke's creations."

"So what do you want to talk about?" she asked, speaking with her mouth full.

"How did you-"

"You've barely acknowledged me since...well, the locker room," she mumbled, avoiding his eyes.

He sighed. "I want to apologise. I've acted like a bit of a dickhead this past week. And the truth is you confuse me. But I like it because you're the one person in my life who isn't afraid to call me a dickhead. Or whatever curses you said in Spanish."

She cracked a smile.

"I know I said otherwise earlier, but I really do want you in my life."

She took a moment to finish the piece of pie and handed the used plate and fork back to him. "I don't know. I don't really have time in my life for games like these."

"It's not a game. And if you give me a chance, I'll prove it to you. I want to be your friend. How about you come over for dinner on Sunday? You get to see me without cheerleaders and basketball."

She quirked an eyebrow.

"Please."

"Fine. And about the project-"

"You were helping my friends. Sharpay told me. Why would you help them? On your first day after dealing with me?"

She laughed. "I was raised to help people. You know, give someone a meal even if there's none left for you. I don't know any different."

"I don't hear about that kind of thing much. Certainly not around here. And it's very cool that you did that." He paused. "I thought you don't play sports anymore."

She quirked an eyebrow. "You're basketball captain. I was hardly playing basketball."

"But your accuracy-"

"Is basic math and science," she explained. "A 4.0 GPA comes in handy."

"So drama won't help me shoot hoops?" he joked.

She nudged his shoulder. "That's a lame joke."

"I got my dad's sense of humour!" he protested, holding his hands up.

A car horn honked and they turned to the parking lot where a Kia Soul flashed its headlights at them.

"I have to go," she mumbled as she jogged over to the sidelines to pick up her shoes and bag. "It's my brother."

"Do you want to stay? I could give you a ride home," Troy offered.

She smiled. "That's sweet but I'm not exactly having the time of my life in that gym. I'll see you Sunday, okay?"

"Sunday," he agreed. He couldn't help smiling as he watched her head towards her brother's car, still in bare feet.


End file.
